Maureen Child - The Last Santini Virgin

Okay, so she’d complained a little. Wasn’t that one of the perks of having a family? They were supposed to let you rant and rave. She hadn’t noticed them rushing out to buy her new clothes when she complained about her wardrobe.

“Papa would have been pleased with what Davis did for you,” Mama said. “Family takes care of family.”

Oh, for pity’s sake, she made it sound like they were in the Mafia. What’s next? We send Nick a dead fish wrapped in newspaper?

“But…” Gina began.

“Davis went out of his way to find this guy, you know. He did you a favor. The least you could do is thank him.” Marie stared at her, silently waiting for Gina to do just that.

Five pairs of eyes watched her. She could hear the ticking of the mantel clock in the living room. No one moved. Damn it. Didn’t they understand that even though he’d meant well, Davis had just made a complicated situation even more difficult?

In an instant she recalled everything Nick had said to her after their last class. Spoiled. Pampered. Princess. Well, now, thanks to Davis’s well intentioned meddling, Nick would think himself proved right.

Why was her life suddenly so complicated?

Men, that’s why.

First, there had been Richard. A lawyer she’d dated long enough to convince her to take ballroom dancing lessons in order to fit into his social sphere. Unfortunately she’d stopped dating him before her second class. Though a perfectly nice man, they hadn’t shared enough chemistry to set off a sparkler.

Sparklers. Fireworks. Skyrockets.

The thought of which brought to mind the new male in her life. Nick Paretti. Her blood hummed in her veins. Her stomach pitched and rolled.

Oh, for Pete’s sake.

“Gina!”

Marie’s voice dragged her back to the moment at hand.

“You could at least pay attention when we’re arguing,” her sister said.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” she muttered, then continued, “all I said was that Nick Paretti is a pain in the—”

“Gina.” Mama’s voice broke in, firmly.

She closed her mouth, sighed then said, “He’s a pain in the drain, that’s all.”

Mama nodded, satisfied.

Jeremy snickered until his mother shushed him. Apparently, he hadn’t been fooled by his aunt’s quick save.

“I only meant to help,” Davis said, looking directly into Gina’s eyes.

Instantly she regretted shouting at him. He had meant well. And if you stopped to think about it, it was really very sweet, him rushing in to play big brother. Boy, would she have loved having him around when she was a kid.

“I know,” she said, giving him a smile and letting him know he was forgiven. It wasn’t his fault she had such conflicting feelings for Nick. Then she forced herself to add, “Thanks, Davis. You’re a good brother.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

Conversation flowed again, swirling around and past Gina. No one seemed to notice that she wasn’t taking part.

“Okay, let’s have it,” Gina said as they left the dance studio.

“Have what?” Nick glanced up at the starry sky and shrugged deeper into the windbreaker jacket he wore.

“I’ve been waiting all night,” she said, and grabbed his arm to bring him to a stop.

Scowling, he turned his gaze down at her. He should have known they wouldn’t be able to go an entire night without an argument. Although, up until now the evening had gone fine. They’d hardly spoken and they’d danced better than ever. Maybe that was the secret to getting along with Gina Santini. No talking.

“Waiting for what?” he asked.

“For you to make some smart remark about my brother-in-law hunting you down on base.”

“Oh…” Nick nodded and immediately understood. She was wondering why he hadn’t said anything. But the truth was, he’d been doing a lot of thinking since Davis Garvey had spoken to him a few days ago. In fact, he’d been trying to figure out exactly why Gina Santini rubbed him the wrong way more often than not. He’d lost his temper more times since he’d met her than he had in the past five years. And that wasn’t like Nick at all.

Then last night the truth had finally dawned on him. Gina reminded him—too much—of his ex-wife. Oh, she didn’t look anything like her, and if truth be known, Gina was a helluva lot nicer than Kim had ever been. But there were too many similarities to ignore, too.

Both of them spoiled, used to getting their own ways and not above using their looks to do it. Every time Gina tried to flirt her way out of an argument, Nick’s defenses went on full alert. He’d fallen once for a woman with more looks than heart. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

As for her brother-in-law’s visit, there was no need to say anything about that. If Nick had been in the same position, he would have done the very thing Davis had. In the Paretti household they’d learned one lesson very early in life. Family comes first.

“Forget it,” he said finally, and saw wary relief wash over her features.

Obviously, she wanted to believe him, but didn’t.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“I can’t be nice without an ulterior motive?”

“I don’t know.”

Well, hell. Good to know she thought he was a complete jerk. “Look, why don’t we call a truce for the duration of the lessons?”

“A truce?”

“Yeah. You know, a cease-fire.”

“I know what it is, I’m just not sure why you’re offering one.”

He inhaled sharply and let the cold ocean breeze reach down inside him and quench his budding temper. Even when he was trying to be agreeable, she fought him. “We both want to learn these damned dances, right?”

“Right.”

“We don’t have to like each other. All we have to do is dance together.” There. He couldn’t make it plainer than that. “Deal?” He held out his right hand.

She stared at it for a long moment as if it were a snake in striking distance. Then she slipped her hand into his and said, “Deal.”

Warmth skittered up from their clasped hands, and Nick released her quickly. Then she flashed him a million-watt smile, and he had to firmly remind himself that it would be easy to resist her charms.

“As long as we’re being so friendly,” Gina said as they started again for their cars, “maybe you’d like to reconsider entering that competition.”

He snorted a laugh. A private truce was one thing. Announcing publicly that he was taking dancing lessons was quite another. “Not a chance, princess.”

“So much for a truce,” she muttered.

“I’m not entering that contest.”

“But we’re really getting good,” she argued.

“No way,” Nick said and shook his head for emphasis.

She took his arm and stepped in close. “You could at least think about it.”

Her perfume drifted to him, and he inhaled it deeply. Light, flowery, it seemed to fill his head with images of summer nights. Her hand on his arm felt warm and entirely too good. He didn’t dare risk a look at her. No doubt she was wearing her patented, “pouting for prizes” expression. And as much as he’d like to pretend he could easily resist it, he knew darned well it would be tough.

“Gunnery Sergeant Paretti?” A woman called out to him from off to their left.

Nick glanced her way and simply stared at the woman. Good Lord. The new Colonel’s wife. A thousand thoughts ran through his head in an instant. Would she know that he and Gina had come from the dance studio? No, he told himself. Close by, there was a theater, the Bayside Seafood Restaurant, an art gallery and a drugstore. They might have been in any of them. Nope. He was in the clear. Relaxing just a bit, he smiled and said, “Mrs. Thornton, ma’am. Good evening.”